At my second World Championships, Craig Sesker, Travis Shives and I walked around a market area in Baku in search of something, anything, to get our minds away from the Heydar Aliyev Sports Complex. What we found, was McDonalds.

In Baku, it was a welcome sight. Something that we longed for -- something uniquely American in size and stature. Something that gave us thoughts of home. In Moscow, it's very much the opposite.

While we search high and low for anything American, or even something British or an avatar of something from any English speaking country, we're stuck with those Golden Arches.

For the fifth straight day, I've eaten McDonalds for lunch. It's not sitting well with Craig, who left the Friday tournament after the first session concluded with some stomach issues. He alluded to such in his blog.

I've been ducking the breakfast at the Hotel Cosmos, so by the time the day rolls around to near completion, the only thing I've swallowed has been greasy Russian McDonalds. I'm eating a Royal with Cheese (insert Pulp Fiction line) and some soggy fries. The Mountain Dew I bought from the concession stand is anything but as tasty as the beverage state-side.

Joe Williamson from Flo and I walked over there -- both feeling rather worried about what this would do to us. I won't spare you any details about how my "system" works, but let's just say I might be living on borrowed time.

Here's the biggest problem I have with it. It's not the fact that I hate McDonalds, I hate fast food, pretty much in its entrity. Chick-Fil-A is the only real exception. Culvers, at times, also hits the spot. White Castle ... not so much any more now that I'm married. I used to come in with White Castle after I had bad dates in Minnesota. When the roommates saw me with a bag of sliders, they knew I wasn't going to see that person again.

Anyway, you guys don't care about my date life, but back in 2003, I was a very unhealthy guy. I smoked a pack of cigs a day, did the "college lifestyle" with what I'd consume and working at a newspaper, I ate a lot of fast food. I was standing next to Jeff Rusak in the ODU wrestling room one day in January of 2003 and stepped on the scale. I jumped off of it as soon as I saw the "3" in front of the first three digit digital readout. Ultimately, I was 325 pounds.

I then didn't eat fast food or drink a single drop of "regular" soda for the next four months. And I lost 70 pounds. So I'm personally a believer in the fact fast food erodes your health and has ZERO benefits. The only benefit is right now is to cure hunger, but I'd probably be better for my body to just drink water and nothing else than consume the amount of grease and fat and calories a Royal and Fries will put into my system.

I equate this to my distain for Buffalo Wilds Wings the three days after Fargo. I don't want to see a B-Dubs for at least a week (because we have one in the Springs) ... thankfully, I don't frequent McDonalds anyway.

So when I get back to the states, I think I'll re-enlist myself into the no fast food, no soda thing. I'm about 255 now, but I'm curious to what this trip has done to my immune system, voice and overall cholesterol level. I'm going to go on a detox when I get home with fresh food, tons of veggies and fruits and a mountain stream of water.

Макдоналдс can be gone!